


from every sun ascending

by ladybubblegum



Series: we set each other free [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, F/F, Protective Malia, lydia never met scott or the gang, sort-of road trip?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:19:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4645377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybubblegum/pseuds/ladybubblegum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia Martin left Beacon Hills after high school and never looked back. Life as a banshee is tough, especially when everyone who ever died is constantly trying to tell you their life story and refuse to give you a moment's rest. But when a mysterious and beautiful woman saves her from a werewolf attack one night, Lydia learns that maybe the answers to all her questions had been closer than she thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	from every sun ascending

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bbanzaiz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbanzaiz/gifts).



> Written for the Teen Wolf Femslash Exchange. Follows a prompt given by my recipient, bbanzaiz, with a little bit of tweaking.
> 
> Hope you like! :D
> 
> Title from the song Sleep Alone by Bat For Lashes.

She didn’t know why she stopped at that gas station.

Her tank was full, or as close to full as she got those days with no job and the money from her last call dwindling faster than she was comfortable with. She’d had a big meal just before hitting the road, and nothing in the tiny shop would have appealed to her if she hadn’t, anyway. There was absolutely no reason she should have been stopping.

She should have known better than to indulge the instinct, but her curiosity had been winning over her logic far more often than usual lately.

When she put her car into park in one of the few parking spots in the lot, she sat there in the silence for longer than she should have been comfortable sitting. Usually her powers would have her up, out of the car, heading toward the body--or the soon-to-be-a-body--but this time, there was nothing. She was lead here, to a parking lot in a run-down gas station in the middle of Fucking Nowhere, California, and then nothing.

Her bad-thing-is-happening sense went into full alert two seconds before the passenger side door was pulled open and the most beautiful woman Lydia had ever seen threw herself into the seat next to her, eyes wild.

“Drive!” she ordered, slamming the door shut and peering out of the window, clearly looking for something. She had pretty shoulder-length brown hair, and impossibly long, well-toned legs, shown off by the ridiculously short shorts she was wearing.

 _Focus, Lydia_.

“What the hell?” she shouted as the woman hit the button that locked all the doors. Lydia stabbed her finger at the button on her own side to unlock them again. “Get the hell out of my car!”

The woman opened her mouth to say something, but before anything could come out, something hit the car on the passenger side hard enough that Lydia felt the wheels actually lift off the ground and slam back down again. There was a sound similar to a rock being drawn across a chalkboard and the woman turned back to Lydia.

“FUCKING DRIVE!”

Lydia was an incredibly intelligent person.

She drove.

\---

They were at least 10 miles away from the gas station when Lydia trusted her voice to work again.

“So, um, you mind telling me what the hell?” she demanded, letting up the pressure on the gas pedal, dropping their speed to a much safer 40 miles an hour. They were lucky they weren’t pulled over.

“I do mind, actually,” the woman snapped, glaring at her.

“Hey, _you’re_ in _my_ car, remember?” Lydia bit back. “Where are we even going?”

“Anywhere not here.”

Lydia sighed, focusing on the road for a few moments until she cooled down enough to ask, “Well, can you at least tell me your name, since you kind of kidnapped me back there?”

She glared at Lydia for a minute or two more, before growling, “Malia.” She crossed her arms. “And he would have killed you two seconds after he killed me, so I was doing you a favor back there.”

“That was a he?” Lydia asked, startled. “That was a _person_? A person nearly took my car off its wheels?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Malia told her, staring out the window.

Lydia rolled her eyes. She was tired of playing the game. “Enough with the cryptic crap, sweetie. Tell me what happened back there.”

Malia stared her down for a long minute. “Fine,” she snapped. She drew herself up, a glint in her eye. “A werewolf hit your car and almost flipped it over. He would have torn both of us to pieces if he’d been given a chance. He probably has your scent as well as mine by now, so your best bet would be to stick with me until I can figure out how to stop him. Happy?”

She sat rigid in her seat, carefully not looking in Lydia’s direction as she waited for Lydia to process the information. She was clearly expecting a reaction like “you’re crazy!” or “werewolves aren’t real!”.

The one she got was, “Well, why didn’t you say so? Full moon’s not for another week and a half though. What’d you do to piss this one off?”

If Lydia had a camera, she’d take as many pictures of Malia’s face as she could--her expression was absolutely priceless.

“What?”

Lydia laughed mirthlessly. “Yes, I know about werewolves.”

“Are you…” Malia looked her up and down, and Lydia watched as her nose flared. “You’re not a werewolf. But you’re...something.”

“Something,” Lydia echoed, amused. “Yeah, ‘something’ is a good word for it.”

“So what are you?” Malia asked her, tilting her head. The streetlights passing overhead glared off her eyes unnaturally. Was she a werewolf too--it would make sense if she was. Malia didn’t look dangerous but Lydia made a note to watch her back anyway. She hadn’t made it this far being careless.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “What do I smell like? I’m kinda curious, myself.”

If Malia were bothered by being found out, she didn’t show it. “Not much. There’s something kind of off about you, but nothing I can put my finger on. I guess you smell a little bit like…” she trailed off, frowning.

“What?” Lydia asked, a sour feeling growing in the pit of her stomach.

“Like death.”

They didn’t speak for the rest of the trip.

\---

Eventually, Lydia’s exhaustion won over her will to keep driving. They passed a run-down little motel along the highway, and, amid protests from Malia, Lydia turned into the parking lot.

(There’d been a terrible accident on this stretch of road just a few months ago, and there were at least four lost souls inside--one suicide, two accidents, one old age. Sleep wasn’t likely tonight but at least she could rest for a while. She tended to avoid public sleeping spaces for this reason, but she didn’t fancy sleeping in the car with a possible werewolf she barely knew)

The only room the lady behind the desk could offer them was a single, but she assured them that it would be big enough to share. Lydia paid and took the room key without argument. At least there would be free HBO.

“You can take the bed, if you want,” Malia offered when they got inside. Lydia threw her bag of clothes down on an easy chair and sat near the head of the bed, toeing off her shoes. “I’m pretty much a night owl anyway. Comes with the territory.”

“We both need rest,” Lydia argued. “We can share. I probably won’t sleep much, anyway.” The voices would allow her maybe a few hours of sleep. The most she'd ever managed in a public space was five. There was a TV mounted to the wall opposite the bed, and Lydia hoped that if she turned it down low enough, the light wouldn't wake Malia when Lydia inevitably awoke and needed something, anything to distract herself.

“You’ve been driving all night,” Malia pointed out, raising one perfect eyebrow. “You’re the one who wanted the room.”

“We can share the bed,” Lydia repeated firmly, pulling the sheets loose and down enough to settle into. She’d given away enough of herself tonight. She just really wanted to lie down.

Malia stared her down for a second, clearly wanting to push the issue, but she just shrugged and said, "Fine. Don't bitch when I steal all the covers."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "I have some clothes that might fit you, if you want to change," she offered, noting for the first time what looked like blood soaked into the left side of Malia's shirt. What the hell had she gotten herself into? She reached into her duffel and grabbed the shirt she liked the least and a pair of sweatpants that had always been too long on her. She tossed them on the bed.

Lydia tried to keep herself from staring as Malia grinned at her and pulled off her bloodied shirt. It took her a few moments to actually look away.

It had been months since she'd been with anyone, possibly her longest dry spell since she was 16. A bit of horniness was to be expected, she told herself. Anyone in close proximity, especially someone as attractive as Malia, would get her motor running and her brain all mushy after so long.

And, well--her thing for bad boys apparently extended to bad girls too, and Malia was gearing up to be the baddest she'd met in a long time.

"So," Malia said when she was finally fully clothed and Lydia trusted herself to look again, "I told you my name, but I still don't know yours." She threw her bloodied shirt into the wastepaper bin next to the dresser and pulled the bag out, tying it off and tossing it on the dresser. It clearly wasn't her first time doing it.

"No, you don't," Lydia replied lightly, looking through her bag for her nightgown. It always got lost in her bag, somehow.

Malia reached over and poked her in the arm. "Oh, come on. We're gonna be spending a lot of time together, might as well give me something to call you."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "We're not going to be spending any time together. I'll take you as far as you want, but I don't need a babysitter. I can handle a werewolf on my own. He seems like more your problem anyway."

“If he has your scent, he’ll follow you,” Malia told her gravely, sitting gingerly on the foot of the bed, as if Lydia were going to bolt if she moved too fast. “And I think he does already. He’d been chasing me for a while, but the second we got within a mile of that gas station, he made a beeline right in your direction. Luckily I’m faster than him.”

“Why was he chasing you?” Lydia asked, finally voicing the question she’d been waiting to ask since they hit the road. “And what would he want with me?”

“Oh, no,” Malia warned, smirking, crossing her arms in front of her. “I’ve been answering all the questions tonight. Your turn.”

Lydia thought about it. On the one hand, she was reluctant to give away any more information than was strictly necessary, but on the other...she wanted to know why she was holed up with a complete stranger in a ratty motel on the interstate. It wasn't the strangest situation she'd found herself since leaving home two years ago, but it definitely made the top-ten list, and she wanted answers, if Malia was offering them.

“Lydia,” she answered honestly, knowing Malia would know she was lying anyway. “There. Now you.”

“Lydia,” Malia echoed, smirk fading into a small unhappy smile. “That werewolf’s name was Trevor. He works for my father.”

“Your father sent a murderer after you?” Lydia asked, shocked.

Malia shook her head. “My father sent Trevor to...recover me. But Trevor had other plans. I think he believes that if I’m dead, he’ll replace me in my father’s favor. Which, you know, he can have it. I sure as hell don’t want it.” At Lydia’s confused look, she shrugged. “My father is an alpha. I guess it’s a thing.”

“You guess?” Lydia asked, eyebrow raised.

But Malia shook her head. “Nope. I answered one, now it’s your turn again.” She narrowed her eyes at Lydia. “You were parked in a gas station with a full tank. There was no scent of gas on you in the car, so you hadn’t filled up. What were you doing there?”

Just like that, Lydia was done.

She settled into the bed and pulled the covers over her shoulder, turning her back to Malia, who laughed.

“Okay, fine,” Malia told her, and Lydia felt the bed dip beneath her as Malia climbed in. “I’ll find out eventually.”

“Ditto,” Lydia snipped back, her eyes already closing of their own accord. She could feel Malia’s presence behind her, not too hot like her usual bedmates. Malia didn’t make a sound, and Lydia wondered if she was sleeping already, but didn’t dare turn around to check. She noted that Malia hadn’t turned the lamp off, and was secretly grateful for the lack of darkness.

She'd never been confronted so bluntly about her...thing, and it had honestly taken her by surprise. She hadn't actually discussed it with anyone else since she was 17 and scared and terribly desperate to understand what was happening to her, and it had earned her a short stay at a mental health facility. Understandably, she'd hadn't been eager to bring it up since. She wasn't about to start now.

She thought suddenly about her mother, back home, who hadn't heard from her in months. She wondered sometimes if she was being searched for, still. She'd had to check back in with her mother after an actual missing person's report had been filed, and Lydia had never been so sick with shame at the sound of her mother's anguished voice over the phone when she asked when Lydia was coming home and Lydia had had to tell her maybe never. There were too many ghosts in Beacon Hills--both literal and figurative. She couldn't go back until she had the answers she needed.

It wasn’t an easy sleep that night, but it was the most restful one she’d had in a while.

\---

She woke slowly and peacefully to the small bit of light streaming in from the crack in the curtains and the glowing red numbers on the bedside table that proclaimed it to be 10:52 a.m. She sleepily did the math in her head--a whole six hours straight, a personal record. She'd awoken shortly after fallen asleep to the sound of screaming from the room over (in her head, if Malia's continued snoring was any indication) but she'd fallen back to sleep to infomercials, the soft glow from the TV, and Malia's even breathing beside her. In sleep, she looked calmer, more peaceful, and somehow even more beautiful. Lydia had tried not to stare.

“Check out’s in an hour, so I’d get a move on if I were you,” came Malia’s voice from across the room behind her, clearly having heard Lydia’s heartbeat change.

Lydia groaned, burying her head further down beneath the covers, not ready to leave the comfort of the bed. She could hear Malia moving around the room, opening drawers and muttering to herself, which was strange considering they hadn't actually used any of them.

"What are you looking for?" She asked groggily, her voice rough with sleep.

"Phone book," Malia called out, sounding distracted. "I decided where we're going. I just need to call ahead."

Lydia pulled the covers off her head, giving Malia what she hoped was her best 'what the hell are you on' look. "Phone book? Are you living in the 90s? You don't have a cell phone?"

From across the room, Malia rolled her eyes. "Of course I have a cell phone--at my father's." She looked away. "I kind of...had to leave in a rush."

Another facet to the Malia mystery. Swell.

"Here," Lydia said, reaching for her bag and pulling her phone out of one of the front pockets and pulling up a google search. "Use mine. Where are we going?"

"I have some family near here," Malia told her, choosing the room and taking the phone, immediately tapping away on it. "They get along with my father about as well as I do, so they might put us up for a while." She lifted the phone closer to her face, and after a few seconds, spoke, her voice lighter and sweeter than Lydia had heard it so far. "Hey, Aunt Talia, I need kind of a big favor..."

\---

They were back on the road half an hour later, breakfast in hand from the first fast food place they could find. Malia guided her, clearly a lot more familiar with the area than Lydia, and soon they were headed north on the interstate.

"You'll like my cousin," Malia was telling her, hair whipping around her face in the wind from the open window. "You guys have about the same sense of humor."

"How do you know what my sense of humor is like?" Lydia asked, trying not to smile. "I haven't heard you crack a joke yet."

"I can tell. Trust me, it's a look," Malia shot back, grinning wildly, her eyes wicked and glinting in the sun.

Lydia's heart absolutely did not skip a beat. She turned back to the road. It was about half an hour later before Malia spoke again. 

“Here, turn here, next turnoff.”

Lydia bore right, looking for the sign, and froze when it passed.

_Beacon Hills. 5 miles._

They were in the shoulder of the road and stopped before Lydia even realized it was happening. Her heart was pounding and her lung didn't seem to want to take in breath. She'd never had a panic attack but she was pretty sure those were the signs of one starting.

“Lydia? What’s wrong?” Malia asked, her eyes wide. “Why are we stopping?”

"You're from Beacon Hills," Lydia said hollowly. She was frozen in place, hands gripping too tight onto the steering wheel.

"Yeah, sort of--you've been there before?" Malia looked more concerned than Lydia had ever seen her, hand twitching on her thigh like she wanted to lift it and do something ridiculous like put it on Lydia’s shoulder or pat Lydia on the back. Lydia was pretty sure she'd scream if Malia did. She took as deep a breath as she could, feeling her heart rate slow as she calmed herself. She wasn't ready for this, but she was ready to try pretending she was.

Lydia turned the key in the ignition, starting the engine back up and pulling back onto the road.

“I grew up there,” Lydia explained after a few tense, silent moments, carefully keeping her eyes on the road, “I lived there with my parents until I went on the road two years ago. I don’t remember you from school.”

“I didn’t go to school here,” Malia explained. “I lived on the outskirts, just out of range of Beacon Hills Elementary. I went to Hill Valley.”

Lydia frowned. “But you’re a Hale. You would have grown up on the Preserves.”

Malia’s head snapped around to stare at her, eyes wide. “How--what makes you think that?” It was the first time Malia had sounded affected, her voice wavering. Lydia tried not to feel too proud at having finally cracked the wall.

“You mentioned an Aunt Talia on the phone,” Lydia explained. “The only Talia I know in Beacon Hills is Talia Hale, and all of her family live in that huge house in the woods. There were like, twenty of them last time I heard.”

“Fourteen,” Malia responded bluntly. “I never lived there. I was...adopted. My family lived a while away.”

Lydia’s stomach sank. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. How do you know Talia well enough to drop in on her, then?”

“Long story,” Malia snapped, clearly done talking. “Pay attention to the road. Our turnoff is next.”

Small victories, Lydia supposed.

\---

The Hale House was as magnificent as Lydia had imagined it.

They were met in the foyer by a beautiful dark-haired woman that Lydia was pretty sure was Laura Hale, Talia’s oldest. She’d been following her mother’s example in the town, an outspoken advocate for the protection of wildlife in the area, and Lydia was pretty sure she was the ranger she’d see occasionally on her morning jogs. Lydia’d always thought she was pretty from far away, but up close, she was practically devastating.

“Mom’s at work,” Maybe-Laura greeted them with a smile. “She told me you called. Are either of you hurt?”

“No, but we are starving,” Malia replied, then turned to Lydia. “This is my cousin Laura. Laura, Lydia.”

They shook hands. Laura’s skin was enviously soft. Lydia wondered idly if the trait ran in the family.

"I think my brother is in the kitchen making lunch," Laura told them. "He makes a mean chili, if you want, but he'll make anything you'd like. I have to get to work. Mom should be home later."

With that, she left, and Lydia followed Malia into the kitchen, where a tall, dark haired man had his back to them, stirring a pot on the stove. He was humming softly to himself, something Lydia found familiar but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Hey, Derek,” Malia called, making the man startle a bit, and turn to them. He looked as familiar as Laura did, though Lydia couldn’t say she knew anything about him.

“You must be Lydia,” he greeted. “Lunch should be ready in a couple minutes.”

“Does your entire family live here?” Lydia asked, not able to help herself. The house seemed smaller than she remembered, and with so many full-grown adults, it had to get crowded.

“I don’t, actually,” Derek replied, smiling back at her. “I own an apartment building downtown, my wife and I have an apartment there. Laura lives here, since her job is here, but most of the family just comes by periodically. We’re a family first, the pack is just sort of...incidental.”

“Derek is, like, surgically attached to this house, though,” Malia explained, smirking. “Especially when Braeden is off fighting bad guys.” Derek threw a discarded piece of onion at her in playful retaliation. At Lydia’s confused look, she elaborated, “She’s a U.S. Marshal.”

Lydia was about to respond, when she heard a faint but angry-sounding whisper behind her. She turned to find nothing but a door. “What’s there? Behind the door?” Malia turned to her and frowned.

Derek glanced over. “Stairs to the basement,” he replied, sounding decidedly less cheerful, even a bit cold. “We had a bad fire down there a couple of years ago, though, we don’t go down there anymore.”

An uncomfortable hush fell across the kitchen. As much as Lydia wanted to push for the story, she decided against it, and tried her best to brush off the cold, creeping feeling in her stomach.

Someone had died in that basement.

\---

Laura and her siblings definitely got their looks from their mother. Talia was tall and commanding, and had a beauty about her that was both stunning and intimidating. She looked every bit the matriarch the papers called her. Upon her arrival, even before she'd killed her engine in the driveway, Derek was out of his seat and heading to the foyer to greet her.

"You must be Lydia," she greeted after finding her and Malia still in the kitchen, eating. If she were offended at their failure to follow Derek's lead and greet her at the door, she didn't show it. "I heard my brother is giving you some trouble."

It was stated so plainly and pleasantly that it took Lydia a few moments to process before she could actually respond. "That's...one way to put it." It had been a long time since she'd felt so instinctively intimidated by someone she'd just met. It was a little disorientating.

"Trevor was chasing me and I think he caught her scent," Malia cut in. "Peter took me from my apartment last Monday. I got out last night and he sent that dickbag after me."

"Malia, I'm sorry," Talia responded sincerely, opening her arms to pull Malia into a tight hug. "We had no idea you were missing until you called us this morning. We'll do our best to keep you safe here until we can take control of the situation. Peter is a problem I shouldn't have let fester and I apologize for that."

“Who is this Peter guy?” Lydia asked, frustrated and maybe too loud. “What the hell does he want with me?”

“We’re honestly not sure,” Talia said, sighing. “We don’t know if you’re even an actual target. But I would feel better if you let us make sure you’ll be safe before you go. I’m going to be requesting a meeting with him tomorrow.”

“Because he’s so understanding and reasonable?” Malia asked, voice dripping in sarcasm, eyebrow raised.

“Because he’s never been able to lie to me and I’ll at least be able to tell if he’s an active danger to us,” Talia said, clipped and a little bit chilly. “Malia, I understand that you have no reason to trust us, but try to remember that you came to us. Let us do what we need to do in order to make it safe for you to go on your way, if that’s what you want.”

Malia narrowed her eyes at her aunt, then sighed, looking frustrated. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired of this. I never asked for this.”

Talia placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “I know. Let us try to fix it.” She glanced at Lydia, then dropped her voice, not enough for Lydia to not hear her, but enough to indicate that she didn’t actually want Lydia listening. Lydia carefully looked away but couldn't stop herself from listening in. “I know you don’t want to join us, but you’re still family. We want to help you.”

“I’m gonna take Lydia upstairs to show her the room,” Malia said, breaking eye contact with the woman. “Second floor guest room, right?”

Talia sighed again. “Yes. It should be ready for her, we just aired it out the other day.”

Malia stood, pushing her chair back, and grabbed Lydia’s hand, pulling her up too. Her hand was warm and strong, and Lydia felt her heart skip as she let herself be led away and toward the stairs.

The guest room was gorgeous.

Malia, who had stopped to grab their things from where they’d left them in the foyer, dropped her bags on the floor next to a comfy-looking chair and collapsed on the bed.

“You don’t have your own room?” Lydia asked playfully. Malia stuck her tongue out at her. It was startlingly adorable, for her.

“What was that, in the kitchen?” Malia asked suddenly, her face carefully neutral. “The thing with the basement?”

“Nothing,” Lydia replied, and she realized she’d reacted too fast to be believable when Malia sat up and frowned. “It was just a curiosity.”

“Even if I couldn’t hear your heartbeat, I’d know you were lying,” Malia told her, though her voice had no heat in it. “Lydia, please tell me. If there’s something here that’s making you uncomfortable, let me know. There are other places for us to go.”

“Not for me,” Lydia whispered, crossing the room and sitting gingerly on the bed next to Malia, who reached out and took her hand. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Malia rubbed her thumb across Lydia’s knuckles soothingly. “I don’t know,” she said with a laugh, “I’m not, usually.” There was a silence, after, that Lydia wasn't eager to fill, in which Malia stroked her skin and Lydia pretended it was out of actual love and care for her well-being. After a few minutes, she felt better enough to talk.

“I hear things,” Lydia said softly, giving it a voice for the first time in years. “White noise, mostly, sometimes people, but when I look, there’s nothing there. Started when I was 16. At first, I thought I was going crazy, but then I found my first dead body. And then my second, and third. I started hearing people dying in places months after they had. And I knew something was wrong with me. My grandmother was diagnosed with schizophrenia when I was little, my mother thought--she admitted me to a hospital. She was so scared and I couldn't explain it to her. I could barely explain it to myself.”

Malia’s hand moved to her back, rubbing soft circles. “The fire in the basement,” she said, “it killed Peter’s wife. Not my mother,” she clarified at Lydia’s alarmed look. “Peter was hurt bad, too. It messed him up.”

“You believe me?” Lydia asked, reaching up to wipe at her eyes, wet despite her best efforts.

“You’re from a town full of werewolves,” Malia pointed out, smiling sadly, “Several of which are related to me, the rest created by my biological father.” She pulled away, suddenly, frowning. “Can I--can I ask you a question?”

Startled, Lydia replied, “Uh--sure?”

“Have you ever been attacked by an animal?” Malia asked. “Like, a dog or a wolf or anything?”

“What? Why?” Lydia responded, her eyes narrowing. When Malia failed to elaborate, she sighed loudly. “Once, when I was in high school. I was walking home from a friend’s house and a dog bit me. Again, I ask, why?”

Malia stood, still frowning. “I gotta--I gotta go talk to my aunt. You should get some sleep.”

“Malia, what--” Lydia tried to call after her, but the woman was already running out of the room. Lydia followed as quickly as she could, but by the time she hit the stairs, Malia was bolting out of the kitchen and through the front door, slamming it behind her. Derek came out of the kitchen as Lydia reached the bottom of the stairs.

“I told her Talia went out and she just ran,” he explained, looking as bewildered as she felt. “What was all that about?”

Lydia shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.” She closed her eyes and look a deep breath, releasing it slowly, then turned to him. “I’m going for a walk. I am in desperate need of some fresh air. If anyone needs me, I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

Derek nodded. “Take your phone, I’ll give you my number.”

\---

The preserves were just as beautiful as Lydia remembered. There were more pathways than there were when she was little, but the thick areas were somehow even thicker. She tried to stick to one direction as best as she could, to avoid getting lost--if anything, she had her phone on her and Derek’s number fresh in her contacts. She quickly strayed off the path, venturing into the deeper areas, sending wildlife scattering in every direction. She was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to be out here, but it was the Hales’ own fault for not supplying her with appropriate entertainment besides a dusty library and a surly young man who lacked a penchant for conversation.

Lost in thought, she almost didn’t see the jeep before she walked right into it.

It had been there, overturned beside a small stream, for what looked like years. It was in terrible shape, as well--slashes covered the exterior, the windshield completely smashed in. The passenger side door was missing entirely. Vines had wrapped themselves around what remained of the structure of the vehicle and it looked like at least one animal had made the interior their home. Lydia reached out to run her fingers on one of the deep gashes on the hood--

“That’s probably not a good idea.”

Lydia screamed, whirling around to see Malia on top of a small hill behind her, smirking.

“You scared the crap out of me!” Lydia shouted, crossing her arms in front of her as she tried to get her heart rate back down to a normal level. “Were you following me?”

“Followed your scent,” Malia replied, jumping down the hill to join Lydia next to the jeep. “This isn’t a very safe part of the preserves. There’s a reason there aren’t any walking paths here. It’s mostly set aside for animals and rare plant life.”

“You know a lot about this place for someone who didn’t grow up here,” Lydia said. Malia shrugged in response. “What happened?” she asked, gesturing at the jeep. “Weird place for a car accident.”

“Long story,” Malia said, frowning at it. “Short version, it crashed. Badly. By the time they got around to sending someone to tow it, a coyote had turned it into a den, and Talia refused to let them disturb it.”

Lydia’s eyes widened in shock. “No one told me there were _coyotes_ out here.”

“Just the one,” Malia assured her. “And she’s...moved on since then.”

There was something in her voice that made Lydia want to keep asking about it, but Malia turned and abruptly started walking back in the direction that Lydia came from. Lydia followed as best as she could.

“We should get back to the house,” Malia called out over her shoulder. “Derek’s about to make--” She stopped walking suddenly, and Lydia barely avoided colliding with her back.

“What? What is it?” Lydia demanded as Malia looked around her, hand reaching back to grab at Lydia’s arm and keep her there.

“Werewolf,” Malia murmured. “Maybe Trevor. Stay close. Text Derek, tell him we’re out by the jeep, he’ll know where it is.” Lydia pulled out her phone and opened her messages, typing out the words as best as she could with her arm still in Malia’s death grip.

Then Lydia heard it: the distinctive sound of a growl.

Instinctively, she shifted closer to Malia, close enough to touch. Malia released her arm and spun around, a hand dropping to Lydia’s waist, pulling her in even closer. From this position, Lydia could practically smell her hair--her shampoo was a sweet-smelling floral one.

A rustling from somewhere far behind her startled her out of her train of thought, and she startled violently. Malia bent her head to whisper in her ear.

“He won’t touch you if I have anything to do with it,” Malia told her. “When he attacks, I want you to run as fast as you can towards the house. The others should be on their way soon. I’ll hold him off.”

Lydia lifted her head to meet Malia’s eyes, glaring. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” she hissed. “I’m not leaving you here!”

“I have claws and fangs and I heal fast,” Malia hissed, “You don’t. So you’re gonna run and let me protect you.”

The rustling grew closer.

“I don’t need protection,” Lydia whispered furiously. “Your family is on their way, right? They’ll find us. But I’m not running, and I’m not leaving you behind!”

There was a long, tense moment where Malia just stared at her, mouth open slightly as if in shock, and then her mouth was on Lydia’s, arms tightening around her waist, pulling her close enough to actually lift her off the ground.

Malia kissed like she lived: passionate and in control, taking what she wanted. Instantly it felt like all the misshapen pieces in Lydia’s head figured out how to fit together. Her whole world melted away except this little piece of woods and Malia, pressed against her tightly, claws pressed lightly against her back. Lydia’s hands slipped into Malia’s hair and pulled her in even harder--poured a day's worth of sexual tension into the kiss.

“Well, this is _real_ cute.”

They broke apart, and before Lydia could even process the movement, she was tucked behind Malia’s back, Malia planted firmly between Lydia and the threat. For half a second, Lydia wanted to protest, wanted to insist that she could take care of herself, thank you very much, but then she finally got a look at Trevor.

Trevor was a hulking mountain of a man, muscles bulging in a too-small t-shirt, eyes glowing bright blue, face twisted into his monstrous beta form. His fangs gleamed out of a wicked grin. His fingers flexed slowly, as if he was itching to dig his claws into something. Lydia knew he had to be bad news to lift her car the way he had, and to spook someone as unshakable as Malia, but she hadn’t quite pictured this in her head. She wasn’t a woman who was used to feeling intimidated, but she was outright terrified in that moment. She wasn’t proud of the fact that a small part of her suddenly wished she’d taken Malia’s offer to run.

Too late now. At least the Hales were arriving soon.

Malia was growling, her body shaking with anger or fear or adrenaline, she wasn’t sure. Maybe all of them, Lydia honestly didn't care as long as they could hold him off until the cavalry arrived. She looked around for something, anything to defend herself with as Malia took a step forward. She regretted leaving the well-worn paths, which probably would have at least had an empty bottle or two hidden in the bushes. Here there were just sticks--Lydia picked up the biggest one she could comfortably lift. As a last resort, it could buy them a couple seconds.

"Now ladies," Trevor continued, fangs slurring his speech, "You don't have to make this difficult. Come quietly and I promise I won't lay a finger on either of you. You'll be delivered to Peter safely."

"Funny, you didn't seem to be concerned with safety when you were trying to rip my throat out," Malia growled, voice similarly slurred. "Why the change of heart?"

Trevor laughed, shrugging. “What can I say, I’ve had a…” his eyes shifted to Lydia, still half-hidden behind Malia, “Revelation.”

“That is so not happening,” Malia replied, moving her body even further in front of Lydia, cutting off her view. “I’ll die before you get to her.”

“That can be arranged,” he growled back, and lunged at them.

Before he got within ten feet of them, though, the clearing filled with werewolves. Talia was leading the pack, face wolfed out and furious, followed by Derek and Laura and a few young women that Lydia hadn’t met yet. 

“Trevor,” Talia called, sounding the least composed Lydia had ever heard her. She stalked forward, fangs bared. “You know this land is off limits to your pack. We are within rights to kill you for being here, especially for the express purpose of harming my niece and a woman under our direct protection. Out of respect for my brother, I will allow you the opportunity to leave with your legs still attached.” A long silence followed her words, no one moving a muscle, and Trevor stood his ground, though Lydia thought she could see a glimmer of doubt in his eyes. Talia continued. “Trevor, you are sorely outmatched here. I highly recommend you take my incredibly generous offer. Go back to Peter and let him know that he will not touch them. Ever.”

There were several more tense seconds in which Trevor still refused to move, before Talia rushed him, her pack leaping after her, covering him completely. No matter how big or strong he seemed, Trevor was no match for an entire enraged family, and smartly took off running the second he had an opening. Derek and two of the women chased after him.

When he was finally out of sight, Lydia released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in a gush of air, heart pounding in her chest.

Talia turned to them, face back to it’s human-looking form, and walked up to them, placing a hand on Lydia’s shoulder. “Are you alright? I’m so sorry it took us so long to get here. Are either of you hurt?”

Malia shook her head. “We’re fine. Can you make sure he doesn’t come back?”

Talia sighed. “He should have known better than to come here. My brother’s pack has been pushing our rules further and further. The fact that his betas are crossing our borders is extremely troubling.” She turned to Lydia, taking one of her hands into her own. “I promise you, you are safe here. This won’t happen again. Though if you wish to explore the preserves in the future, I highly suggest you take someone with you.”

Lydia frowned. “I thought you said I’d be safe. You think he’ll come back?”

“I think my brother is getting bolder in his pursuits, and I no longer trust him to obey the rules we set when he left this family,” Talia explained. “He wouldn’t be stupid enough to approach the house, or start a scene in town, but the woods are secluded enough that he or his betas might considering it a risk worth taking.”

Well, that was comforting. Lydia tried to make her shudder as invisible as possible. Malia’s frown suggested she failed.

“Aunt Talia, I’m gonna take Lydia back to the house,” Malia said. “I really don’t wanna stay out here anymore.”

“Go,” Talia said, nodding. “We’re going to make sure Trevor is actually gone, and whoever else might be with him. We might be a few hours.”

“Thanks,” Malia responded curtly, grabbing Lydia’s arm and pulling her in the direction of the house. Lydia was happy to let herself be guided and leave this nightmare alone.

“Do you really think they can keep us safe?” Lydia asked, deftly avoiding the topic she _actually_ wanted to be talking about, Malia’s tight-but-not-painful grip on her arm suddenly distracting. “Should we be running?”

“This is probably the safest place for us,” Malia told her, glancing back at her. “Talia’s pack isn’t the only one in town. She’s probably going to them after checking the Preserves.”

Lydia frowned. “Is that normal? Two packs in the same town?”

“It’s a little weird, but not unheard of,” Malia replied, smiling. “Talia’s never been very territorial, and the other alpha in town is one of the nicest, least traditional alphas I’ve ever seen. His pack is just as invested in keeping Peter out of Beacon Hills as the Hales are, so now that Trevor has proven that he has no problem starting trouble here, we can start preparing for the rest of the pack.”

They finished the journey in silence, Malia clearly on high alert, head twisting around as if listening for threats. The house came into view sooner than Lydia expected, looming in the distance, and it suddenly felt as if all the adrenaline rushed out of her body at once. All she could think of was the soft, fluffy bed waiting for her. She felt as if she could sleep for a week.

Malia, it turned out, had other plans.

The second they were in the house, the door locked and bolted behind them, Malia turned to her, slipped her hands onto her cheeks, and kissed her as deep and hard as she had in the woods. It could have been minutes or hours by the time they parted, Lydia couldn’t really tell--time slipped away and she lost herself in Malia’s body, pressing herself tight against her as she kissed back.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” Malia whispered against her lips. “You have no idea how crazy you’ve been driving me, staring at me, smelling like that.”

Lydia tried to process what she was saying, dizzy from either lack or oxygen or pure, unfiltered desire. It was a toss-up. “Smelling like what?”

“Like want,” she growled, her rumbling voice sending vibrations through Lydia’s body. “Like you want someone to touch you. It was so hard to keep my hands off you.”

“Then why the hell did you?” Lydia breathed, pushing her hands into Malia’s hair and pulling their mouths back together again. They kissed furiously, Malia’s hands slipping down to run over Lydia’s body, settling on her hips, pulling her closer. “We, there’s a bedroom, we should probably move before your family--” Lydia gasped between kisses, and before she could register movement, she was in Malia’s arm, bridal-style.

She considered objecting, but she realized that the new position gave her perfect access to suck wet kisses into Malia’s neck, and she happily indulged herself as Malia carried her up the stairs. The bed in the guest room was just as soft as Lydia remembered when she was tossed onto it, Malia crawling her way on top of her, dragging Lydia’s shirt up with her. Malia’s hands immediately found their way to Lydia’s breasts, squeezing softly, stroking circles with her thumbs on top of the fabric of her bra.

Lydia pulled desperately at the hem of Malia’s shirt. “Off, get it _off_ ,” she pleaded, and Malia sat up with a smirk, pulling her shirt up over her head. Lydia got half a second to appreciate Malia’s pretty floral bra before that was gone, too. Malia’s breasts were as perfect as the rest of her, full and smooth, nipples already hard with arousal, and Lydia couldn’t help but reach up and rub her thumbs over them.

Malia moaned. “I wanna see you,” she growled, and Lydia removed her hands to reach behind herself and unclasp her own bra. It took some wiggling to do, lying down like this, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t very sexy, but she had a feeling Malia would be happy to rip the thing off of her if it wasn’t gone fast enough, and as hot as the idea of it was, Lydia liked this bra. Maybe next time.

As soon as the bra was off, Malia leaned back down, fusing their mouths back together, sucking and biting at her lips. Her hands slipped down to her thighs, right below the edge of her skirt, then slid up, pushing the fabric out of the way. Lydia let her hands wander down to Malia’s ass, squeezing. It felt as amazing as it looked.

Suddenly, Malia broke the kiss, grabbed Lydia’s wrists, pinned them above her head, pressing down firmly but not threateningly, and leaned back, eyes glowing bright blue.

It was, hands down, the sexiest thing Lydia had ever seen.

“Is this okay?” Malia asked her, voice rough. Lydia nodded, not trusting her own voice to work, and Malia smirked back, transferring both of Lydia’s wrists to her left hand and letting her right trail down her body. Lydia shivered as Malia’s fingertips ghosted over her stomach, down to where the band of her panties had been exposed from beneath her skirt.

Lydia squirmed at the first touch of Malia’s fingers to her clit, slipping down to where she knew she had to be dripping wet.

“You like that, huh?” Malia asked, leaning down to attach her mouth to Lydia’s neck as a finger pushed inside, thumb circling her clit, making her cry out softly. “Tell me what you want,” she continued, murmuring against Lydia’s neck, “You want my fingers or my mouth?”

“I don’t--I don’t know,” Lydia gasped, all her focus on the fingers slowly driving her insane.

“You want me to choose?” Malia asked, pulling her head away, grin fixed on her face. Lydia nodded, again. “Okay then. I think I wanna taste you. Can you stay like this for me? Keep your hands like this?” She pushed lightly on Lydia’s wrists.

“Yes, yes,” Lydia moaned, “Please, just--” Her words cut off in a needy groan as Malia removed her fingers and let go of her wrists.

Malia crawled down her body, trailing kisses down her chest and stomach. She hooked two fingers onto the sides of Lydia’s panties as she went, dragging them down and off her legs. Malia climbed off the bed, having run out of room, and grabbed Lydia by the hips, pulling her down so her legs hung off the side of the bed. She knelt on the floor beside the bed, putting Lydia’s pussy at the perfect height for eating.

“Ready?” Malia asked, not waiting for an answer before licking a stripe up her cunt to her clit.

It was everything she could do not to move her hands and thread them into Malia’s hair as Malia pushed two fingers back in alongside her tongue and fucked her with them, short little thrusts that hit her just right. Malia’s other hand rested low on her stomach, holding her down, thumb close enough to flick at her clit.

It normally took Lydia a fairly long time to cum, but she was so worked up and aroused, and Malia was so thorough in her craft, that Lydia could feel her orgasm building quickly.

Malia slid her tongue back up to Lydia’s clit as her fingers started thrusting faster, as if sensing Lydia was close. “Come on, baby, I wanna see,” she murmured into Lydia’s skin.

Then her fingers crooked just right, her tongue pressed against her clit, and Lydia flew apart--she was fiercely glad the others weren’t home yet, she shouted so loud. Malia fucked her through it, rubbing a hand over Lydia’s stomach soothingly, and eased her fingers out as Lydia’s tremors subsided, crawling back up her body. Lydia reached up and pulled Malia into a kiss, tasting herself on Malia’s tongue. She’d never thought of it as sexy before, but it was, unbearably.

Or maybe it was just Malia.

“Mmm,” Lydia hummed as Malia settled in next to her, pressing their sides together. “You didn’t--” she said, moving a hand down to Malia’s shorts, not even unbuttoned (Lydia’s game was clearly rusty), but Malia seized her wrist before it got there, shaking her head.

“I’m not nearly done with you, yet,” she purred, smirking. “There’s definitely gonna be a round two.”

“You’re gonna have to give me a few minutes, then,” Lydia replied, smirking back. Malia leaned over, pecked her on the lips, and heaved herself off the bed. Lydia frowned at her, confused.

“As much as I hate to move you, I’d rather be _in_ the bed than on it,” Malia explained. Lydia groaned, throwing a dramatic arm over her eyes. “Oh, come on, it’ll be for two seconds, up.”

To Malia’s credit, she was right. The sheets were cool against Lydia’s skin as they settled between them, cuddling beneath the warm, fluffy blanket. Lydia burrowed into Malia’s side, resting her head on her shoulder and throwing an arm across her waist, pulling her in tight. Malia laughed, kissing her lightly on the forehead.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Malia said suddenly. “Talia says you might be a banshee.”

Lydia startled, sitting up in bed and turning to her. “What? You couldn’t have mentioned something earlier?”

“Hey, we kind of got distracted,” Malia said, holding up a hand. “I’m sorry, it kind of got moved to the backburner.”

Lydia mind was racing--what was happening to her finally had a _word_. “Is she sure?”

“She seemed so. She said she wanted to talk to you personally about it.” Malia ran a hand up and down her arm. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Lydia answered honestly. Malia reached out and pulled her into a kiss, and suddenly Lydia was desperately happy for a distraction.

But even as she gently pushed Malia back down into the bed, hands running along her sides, Lydia was thinking and planning.

She had a _name_.

\---

"I had a plan," Lydia said softly in the silence, after, as the sweat cooled on their bodies. "I was in college, I had a future, I knew exactly where I was gonna be in five years. And then this--this _banshee_ crap," she spat, trying out her new word and not liking the way it fit around her tongue, "it ruined everything. Turned out, my campus was built on some old graveyard. I lasted three weeks. My parents were furious."

Silent, Malia wrapped an arm around Lydia's waist and pulled her to lie on her side, resting her head on Malia's chest just under her shoulder, and let her continue.

"Nothing's going the way it was supposed to," Lydia whispered. "And I don't know how to do it by myself."

"Then don't," Malia told her, trailing her fingers up and down Lydia's arm. "I could be there. If you wanted."

Lydia laughed hollowly. "You'd drop everything to run away with someone you've known for a day?"

"Yeah," Malia answered instantly. "But that's not what--I mean, sure, if you wanna keep running, I'd go with you. But we could also stop. Stop running. Stay here. We could find somewhere, you could go back to school."

It was tempting. It was _so_ tempting to just say yes. But--

"I can't," Lydia said sadly, "I can't just stop now. I would love to be able to just...be normal again, but I don’t think I ever will again. I need to know why. I did all this for answers, to find out what happened to me. I can't just give up now, not when I'm so close. Not now that I have a lead."

"What if...what if we had your answers?" Malia asked cautiously. Lydia lifted her head to look her in the eye. Malia looked away.

"What are you talking about?" Lydia asked in return, her eyes narrowing. "Do you know something?"

Malia sighed. "Remember you told me you were attacked by a dog in high school?"

"Yeah...." Lydia trailed off, a feeling of dread settling in her stomach.

"Me and Talia...we think it might have been Peter. His bite may have jump-started your abilities." Malia wasn't looking her in the face, which was probably a good thing.

Lydia saw red--literally, her vision grew hazy red, and in the blink of an eye, Malia was up and flying across the room, hitting the wall with a loud thud. Her sudden rage forgotten, Lydia stared at the heap of woman that was Malia on the floor, rising slowly from the bed in shock as Malia groaned and pushed herself up.

"Lydia, what the hell?" she asked, sounding more confused than upset, which would have made Lydia feel better if she could form thoughts that weren't _holy shit what did I just do?_

"Malia, I--I'm so sorry," she cried as she rushed over to help the woman up of the floor, grabbing a robe off the dresser on her way, wrapping it around Malia's shoulders. "I didn't even know I could--are you okay?"

Malia smiled. "I've had worse. Like way worse. I just wish i hadn't been naked, that probably wasn't too sexy."

But Lydia shook her head, tears coming to her eyes. "See, this--this is why I can't do this. It's why I left in the first place. I had the perfect life before all this. I had friends. I was in a relationship--a really great one." She blinked rapidly, trying to will herself not to cry, even as the first tear fell. "It ruined everything. It still is. It's tearing me apart and I can't do that to anyone. Least of all you."

"And you think I'm gonna just let you walk away?" Malia asked, stepping close enough to reach out and brush away the tear with her thumb. "You can throw me into all the walls we can find, I'm not letting that happen. You tell me you don't want me, you can go do what you want, I won't stop you. But I don't need protecting. You won't hurt me. You haven't hurt me. I wanna help you figure this out. I'm gonna help you get back that perfect life. Whether or not you want me in it is up to you. But you're gonna have it if i have anything to do with it." She reached over to the dresser and grabbed the other robe, wrapping it around Lydia's shoulders and kissing her on the nose. "Let's go clean up. Then I'll tell you about Peter."

Lydia let herself be pulled towards the bathroom, not trusting her voice to say what she wanted to say the way she wanted to say it.

For the first time in a long time, Lydia Martin let herself be taken care of.

\---

“The death of his wife affected Peter greatly,” Talia began. They all sat in the living room, Talia, Derek, and Laura on the couch and Lydia pressed close to Malia on the nearby loveseat. They’d returned from their patrol, tired and hungry, but Lydia refused to let them do anything until she had the story she’d been searching for all that time. She’d waited six years. They could wait fifteen minutes.

“He was never the same, after,” Talia continued soberly. “Hunters had gotten information about us, how to get in, how to avoid tripping the perimeter alarm. We were all supposed to be home that night, but my husband had gotten a promotion at work, and we wanted to celebrate. Catherine, Peter’s wife, worked from home and was swamped. She stayed behind, Peter stayed with her.

“The hunters snuck up to the house and lined the doors and windows with mountain ash to trap them inside, and attacked the house with molotov cocktails and burning arrows. Peter and Catherine ran to the basement, where there was an entrance to an emergency exit tunnel that lead off the property, but unsurprisingly, they found it had caved in. By the time we got home, the house was completely engulfed, and the fire department was already battling the fire. Catherine was already gone when they were finally able to get inside to help them.

“Peter was severely burned, but alive, and spent several years in a coma being cared for by a personal nurse at Beacon Hills memorial. He was healing, slowly, and I knew that when he woke, I’d have to tell him the bad news. He was furious with me. The hunter family responsible for the fire had been giving us trouble--Peter believed I failed to do enough to prevent it from happening. Maybe he was right.

“I don’t know how my brother became an alpha, but by the time I realized that he was, he’d already started attacking people in an attempt to build a new pack. You were one of those victims. I chased him off and banned him from returning to Beacon Hills, probably before he had time to come back for you.” Talia sighed, settling back into the sofa. “I always knew there was another he’d bitten, but no one in town showed signs of being like us, and there were no deaths that suggested the bite had killed someone. I put it out of my mind. I don't know how his beta found you the way he did. He may have your scent, something you owned. ”

“Awesome,” Lydia replied hollowly, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes in frustration. “He’s not gonna stop, is he?”

“We’re going to rectify this situation,” Talia said softly. “But there’s something else I’d like to talk about.”

Lydia looked up at her warily. “What?”

“Malia tells me you’ve been searching for answers about your powers,” Talia told her, hands folded politely on her lap. “I know you have your reasons for leaving Beacon Hills, but I would like to extend an invitation for you to stay here. If not with us, then in town. We have the resources to help you find your answers. I’d like to offer them to you.”

“Because you feel guilty?” Lydia asked, frowning. She wasn’t a big fan of pity.

“Because I know how it feels to have something happen to you that you don’t understand,” Talia replied gently. Her eyes flickered over to Derek, and to Malia. “We all do. If we can make this experience a little easier for you, then we’ll do so happily. If you wish.”

Lydia was quiet for a minute or two, thinking. Malia’s hand was warm and comforting, wrapped around hers. Staying meant facing demons she wasn’t sure she was ready to face, but it also meant answers. It meant people who understood. It meant _Malia_.

Lydia looked up at her, and the woman smiled and ran her free hand across Lydia’s back soothingly, and just like that, she decided.

Her next words felt like a puzzle being completed.

“I’ll stay.”

\---

_They say for every high high there must be a low, low, low, low, low_  
_From every sun ascending a lonesome moon will grow, grow, grow, grow_  
_Drive my heart, drive my heart, into the fire of a burning heart's desire  
_A lonely spell so you be seen, do you hear me coming in my blue dream?__

_Lonely, lonely, lonely, 'cause my mama told me  
The dream of love is a two hearted dream_

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [the tumblr](http://ladybubblegum.tumblr.com).
> 
> There will be a sequel, though I'm not entirely sure when that'll happen. Stay tuned!


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